


Grave Winds

by mimimatcha



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Cemeteries, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Funeral, M/M, keito meets rei, rei as a small cute vampire, vampire, vampire hints
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 21:10:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11677146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimimatcha/pseuds/mimimatcha
Summary: Seven years ago, Hasumi Keito, a young boy whose family runs funerary services, strays away from his responsibilies of the household. The supernatural, it seems, lead him to his chance encounter with a young, pale boy about his age, or is he?





	Grave Winds

_Gray. It was the first color I remembered when opening my eyes, leaving the safety of a warm house. In our home the stench of incense mingled with melancholy_ _quite often. It was always like this on Father's work days. Work, yes...escorting the dead to their new resting beds._

 

It was a grim Saturday morning for the Yamashita household, a family friend to the Hasumi's. Their youngest son had passed away at the unfortunate age of 10, startling for a family of only two children. It was the Hasumi family's job to escort the youth to his next life, whilst also maintaining their own grace and dignity.

A tearful crowd of mourners surrounded the small tombstone, whispering good nothings to each other about how pure the boy was, how it was "too soon" for him to go. Within the crowd of solemn shadows, shrouded in black, a young boy, probably around the age of the Yamashita child, emerges from behind a large skirt. He is lanky in build, but retains a strong, tall posture. His bright green eyes flicker between the rows of women blowing into their handkerchiefs rather ungracefully, emerald green hair damp from the rain and a refusal to stand under his mother's umbrella. His face is emotionless, almost eerily too calm, and a few of the women nearest make their own remarks about the boy.

"Has he no remorse for the loss of their son?"  
"His distressing face makes me think he wished the boy dead!"  
"Hush dear, Keito-san is probably used to this sort of thing by now, his family takes him to every funeral they hold."

"Well if you ask me, he has the same look a monster does that looks upon his prey who's already passed."

 

 _Monster, huh. Quite the vocabulary there_ old lady.  _In fact, none of this is new for me.... I've seen the dead more times than you've blinked, and I have a living dead man to take care of, too. I would run away, but mother scolded me already last time for straying off. I don't want her to use her Buddhist chant punishment again..._

 

Keito almost scoffs in response to his own mental response, but refrains; the Hasumi household must remain dignified and and honorable when doing their job, after all, once he is of age, Keito will be handling this as well.

Or so he was expected to.

Not a moment too soon did young Keito break the hold on his mothers hand, and dashed off in the opposite direction, up the hill towards the older graves in the cemetery. The women in the crowd gasp in shock at how "disrespectful" the young son of Hasumi was behaving. However, Keito continued, panting hard until he hit the top of the hill where no one could see him. His stamina failing already, he collapses under a tree, trying to regain his breath.

"How..do I keep this up...hah.."

 

Adjusting his glasses while sitting himself up, Keito looks around to see where he's ended up this time. Under the large oak tree there's shelter from the rain, the sky an endless plane of gray streaks. No color reflects on the ground below it, nor can Keito detect any life lurking the area. It is silent, and still, and not even an ant dare breathe here. In a way, it's almost relaxing, but terrifying nonetheless. He looks down at his hands, dazing out and reflecting.

 

Keito recalls the funerary home the night before, similarly as silent and still. The coffin laid open, draped in roses of white and red. And there he was, the young boy who had passed, looking like he had merely fallen asleep than passed away. His long eyelashes framed the lifeless lids, and his skin was milky white, but had the gray undertone of death. Keito had almost riled back but he forced himself to stare, stare hard enough to burn the image into his mind.

 

_This is what Eichi imagines himself to look like, huh....._  
_Eichi, how can you think this is a pleasant thing to look forward to....?_

 

And just as Keito becomes lost in his daydreams, a flash of black and a voice awaken him.

_"Hmmmmmm, so you're sleeping so defenseless here, eh my friend~?"_

"Wha-"

Keito jumps up startled, looking around vigorously for who or what just spoke to him. He blinks and rubs his eyes to make sure he's not seeing things.

"Do I need a stronger prescription for these glasses..."

Another flash of a shadow figure quickly dissipates before Keito's eyes, this time he caught a glimpse of glowing red before it had vanished. The wind had suddenly started to blow harshly, almost pushing Keito by force north, deeper into the cemetery. He runs with the speed of the wind, almost tripping himself, and opens his eyes to a place he's never been to with anyone, truly an area where no one in this age would ever venture.

 

There was an old moss covered rock that read "For Those Lost and Unwanted by Man," and reading this name Keito shuddered, his blood running cold.

When the wind had pushed him some more, he found himself in front of a large oak, black and burnt, with not a single leaf to be seen growing. To the upper right of the tree was a large tomb, that looked like a small temple, and Keito blinked seeing a figure resting on the steps. The figure was small, wearing all black like he was, and it appeared to have glowing red eyes. Keito rubs his eyes again.

"Excuse me-"

And the figure disappears. Frustrated, Keito runs further up the hill, reaching the highest point of the cemetery. However, despite being this far, he can no longer see the crowd of funeral mourners behind him. He's gone too far, almost transported to another world.

The wind dies down, leaving the air to run dry. And still. It's so silent that Keito can hear himself breathe. His heart begins to race, feeling the cold sweat and the thud, thud, thud in his chest so hard, looking around anxiously for something to jump out at him.

' Relax Keito. There's no such things as ghosts. No ghosts...just spirits...demons don't exist. They're just folklore... '

And just when he calms himself down.

_SCREEEEEEEEEEE!!_

Keito screams and falls over; a raven had flown over his head, screeching its foreboding call loudly. It rests itself on another dead oak tree, staring deep into Keito's eyes. Seeing his reflection in the bird's eyes makes every hair on his body raise in alarm, but he stands up to brush the dust off himself.

"Stupid bird."

And when Keito turns away from the bird, he sees the grave in front of him. It is shaped like an angel, but it's wings appear to be those of a bat. The angel's face looks like it's weeping, the rain running down her face making it even more convincing. But her hands are folded in prayer, melting into the drape of the stone cloth. The inscription on the stone is hard to read, as it is in Latin, and faded far from being legible enough. But what was more of a terrifying discovery was what sat atop the angel.

 

There it was. Or rather, "he."

 

A young boy who looked about Keito's age sat atop the angel tombstone, legs kicking back and forth playfully. He was wearing short black dress pants and a blazer, collar buttoned up all the way. His pale hands rested on each wing, blue veins showing and nails sharp.

And then there was his face. A work of art, it could be called. His jaw, despite the age he appeared to be, was sharp and chiseled, with a small, pointed nose. There were no imperfections on his face, which was framed by curly, vine like hair the same ashen color of the burnt oak tree. He was so still and so smooth, he could've been mistakened for a part of the sculpture.

And the feature that excited within Keito's body the most were his eyes; the color of blood, dim without any life, pupils contracted and dead. This boy was staring off into the sky, softly singing a melancholic tune to himself that echoed through the entire grave. It was the only sound that rang diligently in the still air, leaving Keito speechless and unable to move.

 

The boy then makes a movement.

 

He turns his chin ever so slightly in Keito's direction, eyes piercing the very existence of Keito's soul. Those blood red eyes shone brightly at him, hungry and lifeless.

Keito couldn't move. He was hypnotized by this beautiful boy in every aspect, whether he wanted to be or not. There was this power over him he couldn't shake, and he couldn't tell if it was fear, infatuation, or awe.

The boy breaks his marble face with a smile, squinting his bloody eyes. And a voice so charmingly youthful rings clearly in Keito's ears, like a wind chime on a summer evening, reverberating into the core of his being.

"Hello there, my dear friend."

**Author's Note:**

> \- "Buddhist chant punishment" - Keito (and we presume his family taught him this because it was mentioned in kenkafes) would be told to balance a bucket of water on his head while saying Buddhist prayers as punishment for being a mischievous child 
> 
> \- inspired by the piece of dialogue Keito mentions on how he meets Rei as a child, so I thought I'd like to see what keito might be thinking more deeply about it. 
> 
> \- "living dead man" - Keito mentions taking care of Eichi a lot/using a lot of images of him 
> 
> \- this will be two parts so I hope you'll continue reading ヽ(；▽；)
> 
> \- I hope you enjoyed, please feel free to leave comments about what you think, and thank you so so so much!


End file.
